Discerning
by melody t. gatsby
Summary: Jean Kirstein tries eleven times to win the heart of Mikasa Ackerman-Jean/Mikasa


Title: Discerning (Eleven Tries)

Status: One-shot.

Pairings: Jean x Mikasa.

Warnings: Man I don't even scrutinize my writing anymore. I'm just not going to deny the chocolate fuel.

Comments: Gitfic for _taikos _on tumblr, thanks for the follow love. Hope you like it even if it wasn't your first choice.

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**Discerning (Eleven Tries)**

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**.01**

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Eleven times Jean Kirstein puts the moves on Mikasa Ackerman, and he nearly fails each time.

Well, fail isn't the best word for it. Jean Kirstein is not a failure. Of course he'll admit that he can be mediocre, but-

"You're Jean Kirstein man! You can totally go tell her you'd hit that," Connie Springer tells him while they're grappling a Sunday morning.

Jean does not want to admit that a tiny, quite bald headed babbler he was gripping hands with was stronger than he anticipated, but he was willing to appraise him with new merit from his appreciation. "I've got some luscious hair, right?"

Connie takes a step back, coughing loudly into his palm and wringing his other hand away from Jean's. "Uh, yeah. Sure, sure yeah. Hey, look at this. Sasha!"

Jean is shocked that Connie is calling over the Potato Girl from last week, and all respect that he has built for the tiny idiot in front of him vanishes as Sasha bounds over from her female partner with a silly smile. How could he be friends with such mental dorks? Jean stands uncomfortably and considers making an excuse and backing away, but not before he hears Connie ask Sasha, "Would you hit this," and he makes a wide, sweeping gesture at his torso, while jutting his hip out.

"Hell yeah," Sasha replies, and they high five each other, and then proceed to imitate boning maneuvers on each other. Jean stares at the spectacle in front of him with some barely disguised disgust, and decides this would be a good time to leave. As he does he spots Mikasa slam another partner into the dust and he stands and watches her, biting his lip. Mikasa leans down and brushes off her partner for a moment, cocking her head in a gesture of apology.

_Beautiful and strong,_ Jean thinks. _Obviously she's meant to be my wife._

Mikasa stands up, and starts walking towards his direction, and Jean immediately starts panicking. What is he supposed to do now? Has she noticed that he's been staring at her constantly since last week? Jean slicks back his luscious hair with a hand, which is a failed prospect because it just ends up spiking back up so it almost appears he has a brown Mohawk upon an ashy head.

Jean almost never thinks before he speaks, and it's the exact same case now, and perhaps it is not the best decision because he ends up uttering "Wa-whasup girl. I would totally hit you."

Mikasa stares at him which an arched eyebrow. "Hit?" she mutters in a low tone. "You want to spar me?"

Abort. Abort. "Uhhhhhh….."

And this is how Jean's love life starts, with a beautiful black haired girl punching him squarely him in the jaw, and Jean's head obtaining yet another bruise for the span of the week.

"Sorry. I thought you'd block me or something since you asked for it."

Jean gurgles on the ground.

* * *

**.02**

* * *

Jean finds out a little too late that Mikasa is a fighting prodigy.

He challenges her to an actual fight this time; basically because he figures in comparison with all these nincompoops ambling up around him, Mikasa and him were the only serious contenders in the camp.

"You'll see how strong I am, Mikasa!" he declares before. _And maybe you'll actually notice me before._

Mikasa ends up hauling him up almost neatly on her shoulders, spinning him around and quite casually dropping onto the ground before Jean can get a single grapple in.

Jean lands with a painful oof. Upwards Mikasa hovers over him, and she doesn't touch him on his forehead like last time but just gives him a very very tight lipped look. Jean can hear Reiner yell, "Stick it!" from afar, and then even closer, "What in the fuck," from Eren.

_What the fuck indeed, _Jean thinks, and he turns around so he didn't need to keep seeing Mikasa's bland, unimpressed expression.

* * *

**.03**

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"I think you should lay it off Eren a bit," Marco whispers to him from the bunk bed above.

Jean knows he's right, but-"I don't understand Mikasa a bit," he manages angrily. "How can she be attached to someone who is so foolish?"

Jean can feel Marco shrugging his shoulders through the vibrations between the flimsy springs. "Who cares, Jean, maybe they have history or something, but you can't blame and scream at Eren no matter how resentful you are of their relationship."

"Hi-his-tory? Rela-relationship?" Jean stutters, spitting with anger.

Marco sighs and turns on his side. "See, there it is again. You need to calm down more. Think about winning her approval with your own merits. I'm sure she'll find favor with you that way much easier."

Marco phrases it so cheesy, that Jean can't resist banging a fist upwards where Marco's back lay. "H-hey!" Marco protests, and the whole cabin offers loud, rasping hushes and Jean just laughs.

_My own merit? What is that supposed to mean? Not being mean to Eren anymore?_

It made sense, but Jean felt bothered by that prospect nevertheless. Still, in the morning, he put all his courage together and offered Eren his extra juice in the breakfast line, watching Mikasa's reaction carefully.

Eren stares at him with murderous eyes. "You gay bro?"

"Hey," Connie shouts from Eren's side and starts jabbing rapidly towards Jean's direction. "Look who finally came out of the closet!"

Reiner lets out a hearty laugh and slaps Jean's back so hard he almost propels into his breakfast tray. Some of his oatmeal slops onto his hands. Mikasa just narrows her eyes and strolls away, and Jean thinks about screaming.

He's never listening to Marco again.

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**.04**

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Jean puts the upmost effort into winning everything. He imagines becoming number one, swaggering it up with the Military Police, and walking around with Mikasa fawning lovingly at him in his handsome uniform.

Therefore, he has to win.

However, Jean slowly realizes he's terribly untalented at almost everything, and he's frustrated out of his mind. He becomes the jack of trades, almost great at many of his endeavors, fantastically great at nothing.

Who was fantastically great at everything? Mikasa. Who was fantastically great at hand combat? Eren. Who was damn smart? Armin.

Where did this leave him, some cynical realist? Realizing he was nowhere as smart or talented as he anticipated was ruining him. Jean got more pissed off day by day by day by day…and then one day, he strapped on his maneuver gear, pissed off because he was never going use it anyway, and then his superiors sent them off to their calculated finals.

He swings around his sword, fuming, jumping from tree branch to tree branch easily, slashing at one cardboard target with as much precise coordination as he could muster, and then approached another one with knitted eyebrows. He was so concentrated that he didn't notice Mikasa heading for it as well before quite late.

For a millisecond, he thought about backing off, and then at the very next he just gave up. For that moment he gave up, just heading toward it without any thought, no qualms anymore.

He reaches it before Mikasa does, gives it an obligatory fatal cut, and moves on.

Later the commander debriefs them on their performance. Everything is very normal, until he reaches Jean. Instead of his mixed bag of spit and sharp comments, he raises his eyes and gives Jean a slow nod. "Go going there, trainee. Your skill with the gear is to be commended."

Jean waits for the jarb but it doesn't come.

Mikasa gives him a nod too.

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**.05**

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Because Jean is feeling on top of the world, he tries the merit thing again by approaching Mikasa, no matter how nerve wracking, and offering her his lunch juice.

Mikasa accepts it with an "oh," and a "thanks."

Wowee, she is gorgeous. Jean cannot help watching her walk away with a smooth gait…and then over to Eren, and then giving the juice to Eren.

Jean decides he's not getting juice ever again. Also, he declares to never listen to Marco a second time.

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**.06**

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He thinks he's going to die after the wall falls.

He's so pissed off at the world, so pissed off at everything, but mainly himself, for being a damned coward. Mikasa will never know his feelings now.

He knows it's foolish, and selfish, but he telepathically hopes she lives.

_I want you, _he thinks softly.

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**.07**

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Marco dies after the fall of the wall and Jean decides to join the Scouting Legion.

It's the bravest thing he has done in a while, to stand as the fire of the lanterns flicker over the curves of his peers' faces. He wonders how many wrinkles are imprinted into his face now, because Connie's and Sasha's are both deep, and he can't imagine thinking he was better than them again.

They're crying. He's probably crying too.

Around him, the steps of the leaving comrades echo is his ears. He could follow them. He made it, despite all odds, into the top ten; he made it into the Military Police. He can finally be the fabulous, strong guy he dreamed of, one worthy of Mikasa.

_With your own merits._

He keeps standing there, thinking in a numb way. He lost Marco, and he stands there because he doesn't want to lose anyone else.

Mikasa stands barely in front of him, her hand crossed across her chest, her trademark scarf rippling in the faint coldness of the evening. Her entire manner is totally calm. Jean wonders if she's ever been scared of death before.

And then he surely, without hesitation, slams his own fist into his chest, and lets his tears roll down in lopsided succession. He's going to listen to Marco, and this time it will probably not only cost him just humiliation but his life too.

There's still people he needs to protect.

* * *

**.08**

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He watches Mikasa as they go into battle, and it's harder to believe that all of sudden his safety matters less. He wants to keep everyone at his side and make sure they never died.

He always thought worthless things like this and what in the hell had happened to him. What was making him so foolish? Seeing people die? Seeing Mikasa's cold combat? Seeing Marco's dead body? Was he weak now?

_Ahaha, I don't even care anymore. I don't fucking care, _he thinks as he gives a kiss to his trusty sword, and swings it in the direction of the heavens where Marco is watching. _I made the decision to kill myself like this. _

_Might as well go all the way. _

"Don't die!" he tells Mikasa carelessly as she parts.

"You too," she replies with her cool, unblinking eyes. Jean almost scoffs, and he can feel Armin chuckling at his side.

* * *

**.09**

* * *

Mikasa lets Jean hold her hand once. Only once, after they lost Eren to Titains.

She's only a bit somber, lacing up her shoes and giving her sword a harsh polishing, maybe even looking excited to chase her enemies down. After hesitation, Jean comes to her, biting his lip when she turns around, because he's sure he's going to say to tell her not to die again.

Instead of saying things without thinking, he does something without thinking-weaves his fingers around hers and gives her what's meant to be a comforting smile.

Mikasa hangs open her mouth and makes a stiff, short cackle. Jean's smile is indefinitely unreliable.

But she lets his fingers hang there, and the more she does the redder and hotter Jean gets. Too bad for being smooth with the ladies. He can't even stand touching her for a few seconds.

Which is great, because she turns around to her horse after a few seconds, and Jean's hand drops away. He stands there with his turnip face, staring at his hand, not moving or breathing, and it occurs to him he doesn't even care looking like a fool anymore, anyways.

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**.10**

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Somewhere along the way, he realizes Mikasa is vulnerable and not indestructible, especially when a titian clamps her in a grip when they fight the human titans.

Jean is supposedly supposed to charge on. Instead, with his short, stubby hair that was in no way luscious, he straps himself down and flings towards the titan's direction.

Oh, this was nothing like he imagined. He was the suicidal Eren now, no doubt about that.

* * *

**.11**

* * *

Jean visits Mikasa while she's injured. She's propped up against a hardish cot, and looking straight up in the direction of the heavens.

"Eren?" she murmurs very quietly. Jean wants to throw a vase and immediately feels immature because of it.

"No, it's Jean," Jean says, stepping gingerly over the wooden boards, looking downwards shyly. "Your boo," he jokes weakly; it comes out all in a sad sort of garble and even he can't laugh.

"There's nothing to see there," he mutters, after a strained moment. "No god. No god would let us live like this."

Mikasa creakily turns her head, and Jean winces because she sounds like a battered robot working without oil. "Boo? Are you trying to scare me?"

Jean looks at his hands while Mikasa takes a pause, and then she starts giggling uncontrollably, and Jean snaps his head up, feeling horrified.

"You…are…such…an…idiot," she finally manages to wheeze out. It's not quite affectionate as blunt, and Jean rubs at his face.

"What can I give to you for saving me?" Mikasa sips at her water, her voice slowing to a cool calm. She looks out at the window as she says this, life coming into her listless eyes.

"A kiss," Jean suggests, almost perkily, and then turns red at the suggestion. Mikasa starts giggling uncontrollably again and Jean thinking about hating Mikasa, however impossible it'd be.

"Sure, come here," Mikasa smiles and gestures him onto her bed.

Jean wonders how more horrifying the day could get. "You're actually accepting?" Not his pure, pure Mikasa.

Mikasa wheezes and shrugs good naturedly. "A kiss for giving me another chance to look after Eren…that's nothing big for me to give."

Jean feels around with his cold hands. And then he says, "God gave you that chance, not me."

Mikasa looks at him, with a stern aura. "And you said God doesn't exist?"

Jean meets her stare eye to eye. "I didn't mean it. The fact that you and I both are here means so."

"What makes you think you're so privileged?"

Jean blushes, and pouts a bit. "You love Eren too much…" he croaks, and then he shakes his head and clears his throat.

"It doesn't matter. Hey, Mikasa, it doesn't matter."

She eyes him expectantly, not saying anything. She only cares about the few people around her and no one else, and Jean never thinks whenever he speaks.

"You protect Eren, because I was born to protect you."

Jean flushes, but still meets her gaze. Mikasa takes a moment, and then shakes her head and leans back down into her bed. "That's probably not true."

Jean looks at the floorboards. "You don't control my destiny, you know." And then he walks away, with the hands cupping his elbows, until Mikasa yells out.

"Jean!"

Jean turns back, and gives Mikasa an up-an-down gaze.

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."

"Yeah, please do," Jean says back, a smile on his face.

Maybe one day he'll get her to kiss him, without needing to ask.

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**Thanks for reading.**


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